


take my hand, take my heart

by rileyhart



Series: the night you left [3]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, remember when i said i'd write post s4 fluff?? well here it is!!, sort of, there's a bit of angst first ;))
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-02 22:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11518419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileyhart/pseuds/rileyhart
Summary: She finds it just two weeks after he’s been in prison.A navy blue velvet box. A simple silver ring inside. It fits perfectly.





	take my hand, take my heart

**Author's Note:**

> i finally got around to writing that post s4 fluff i promised (like 5 yrs ago lmao)... anyway! enjoy (and pls comment!) !! :)

She finds it just two weeks after he’s been in prison.

Amy has just been to visit him for the second time that week (they’d decided on two to three visits a week), and she flops down, exhausted, on their bed. She shuts her eyes and sighs, and she can feel the tiredness seeping into her bones. The past two weeks have been filled with work to free Jake and Rosa, with work to distracted from missing Jake, with missing Jake, missing Jake a lot. It’s somehow worse than when he was in Florida, even though she gets to see him. It’s worse knowing he’s in _that place_ for all the wrong reasons, knowing that Lieutenant Hawkins is out there, smugly going about her life. It won’t be long, Amy keeps telling herself and Jake, before Hawkins decides to break the law again, and they’ll catch her in the act, use it as evidence in court, along with proof that the money _didn’t_ come from Jake and Rosa, but rather someone connected to Hawkins.

* * *

“They can’t look past that,” she’d told Jake into the phone, on her first visit, “it would prove everything we’ve been saying.”

Jake smiled weakly at her, and she longed to reach out and squeeze his hands reassuringly, to caress his face. She hated that pane of glass that separated them. “We’ll have you out of here before you know it, _I’ll_ get you out of here.” she whispered emphatically.

Jake smiled again. “I wouldn’t bet against you,” and Amy laughed; then she looked at Jake and the laughter abated. The laughter in his eyes was glazed with sadness, and his smile fell. He gulped, and a wave of pure sorrow passed between them.

“I’ll get you out of here,” Amy repeated, her voice cracking, “I promise.”

“I know you will,”

“Peralta,” the guard called right at that moment. “Time’s up,”

He walked over as Amy hastily wiped her eyes. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” she murmured.

“Yeah,” Jake replied. “I love you,” he added softly.

“I love you, too,”

* * *

She sits up and rests her head in her hands; through her fingers she can see his leather jacket hanging on the cupboard handle, exactly where he left it. She reaches out and takes it off the handle. She runs her fingers over it, and feels tears spark in her eyes. Crying, that’s another thing she’s been doing a lot of. Her fingers bump into something, and she frowns, looking down at a small bulge in one of the pockets that she hadn’t noticed before. She unzips it (also odd, he never zips up his pockets), and her heart almost stops as she pulls out a small navy velvet box. With trembling fingers, she opens the box, though she can hardly see the ring inside due to the tears in her eyes. She wipes her eyes, tears falling onto his leather jacket. It’s a simple ring, a silver band with three small diamonds, and she smiles as she slides it onto her finger. It fits perfectly. She laughs and then she cries, imagining what would’ve happened if they’d won the court case, how happy they’d be.

She takes the ring off and puts it back, zipping up the pocket and hanging up the jacket. She stares at the small bulge, a whole different version of her life sits in there, a happier version.

She shuts her eyes and breathes in deeply, allowing the tears to disappear.

She opens her eyes and walks out to the kitchen to work on the case file lying on the table.

* * *

She might have hated that pane of glass between them before, but that is nothing compared to now. She wants so much to rush up and hug him as she watches the guard bring him, her heart is bursting with love.

“Jake,” she says breathlessly as he picks up the phone on the other side of the glass, “oh, I love you so much,”

There’s a pained expression on his face. “I love you so much, too,”

They sit in silence for a few moments. “So, um,” Amy says, twisting the phone cord absentmindedly, “Charles made something in the slow cooker at work, again,”

Jake grins. “I’m guessing that ended terribly,”

“For him!” she laughs. “It exploded all over Gina. She was chasing him around the precinct for nearly an hour, and he kept screaming how it wasn’t fair because she was pregnant,”

Jake laughs, and Amy feels her heart soften.

* * *

The small bulge in his leather jacket is a visual motivator over those next few, slow moving months. She sees it when she sits up in bed in the mornings, and it urges her to get up, to work, to find a way of freeing Jake and Rosa, to get their lives back on track. She sees it when she changes into a pair of pyjama pants and one of Jake’s hoodies at night, feeling overcome with hopelessness, and it reminds her why she has to keep trying, no matter how bleak the outcome looks over those months. The ring stays in the box, Amy continues to work and visit Jake and Rosa, and finally, _finally_ , five months later they have her.

* * *

Amy gets the call while she’s at work. Melanie Hawkins has been found aiding cocaine smugglers by the P.I they hired to tail her. The local police are on the scene in seconds, and suddenly, everything they’ve been working for over the past five months begins to happen. There’s the trial to set and witnesses to prepare, but with the new charges and evidence, along with the proof of where the money came from, facing Hawkins they have an actual chance on charging her with the bank robberies and freeing Jake and Rosa. She practically explodes from happiness when she, Charles, and Gina visit Jake and Rosa to tell them (though she’s not showing it nearly as much as Charles).

“We’re finally gonna get you out. It’s actually gonna happen,” she says to him just before they leave, beaming. “I can’t wait for you to come home,”

He grins right back at her. “Neither, Ames,”

“I love you,”

“I love you, too,”

* * *

It takes three months for the whole thing to happen (during which The Enigma Linetti is born, a day that shall be celebrated for centuries to come, according to Gina). The trial, the verdict, the clearing of Jake and Rosa’s names. Amy’s on the edge of her seat during it all, so hopeful, yet so anxious that it could all be ripped away from her at any moment. Her visits with Jake are filled with joyful conversations of everything they’ll do when he gets home (binge watch the entire new season of Stranger Things, have a Die Hard marathon); whilst the other _things_ they’ll do when he gets home are implied solely with a smirk and a raise of the eyebrows.

* * *

And then it finally happens: they’re cleared of all charges, and Amy lets out a sob of joy as she rushes around the barrier in the courtroom, and runs into Jake’s arms. He hugs her tightly and cries into her shoulder, and neither ever want to let go, because for the first time in eight months they’re in each other’s arms, they’re happy with no doubt lurking in their backs of their minds. They bury themselves in each other, breathing the other in, relishing in the warmth and love surging throughout them, and when they finally let go, Amy takes his face in her hands and kisses him.

“You’re free!” she beams delightedly.

“I’m free!” he cries, the widest, dopiest grin on his face she’s ever seen.

It’s all a blur of happiness, and everyone is hugging everyone else, they’re all ecstatic that the nightmare is over.

Naturally the whole squad go to Shaw’s afterwards to celebrate, and it’s so wonderful to be doing something so normal again, yet it doesn’t seem real at the same time. They spend hours talking and laughing; Jake and Amy never straying far from each other, as if there was a rubber band connecting them that would snap if they got too far.

Then they’re walking through the front door of their apartment, finally home. Amy’s chucking the keys in the key bowl, and Jake is standing in the living room, looking around in awe. She watches him, her eyes shining.

“I can’t believe I’m back,” he murmurs, as she wanders over to him.

“Neither,” Amy breathes when she reaches him. They’re standing so close, and the air around them is tantamount with tension and electricity.

He reaches out for her hands, interlocking their fingers. “Ames,”

“Jake,”

He kisses her tenderly, and it’s a kiss of months of sadness and longing, and they can feel every inch of the others’ pain in that kiss. Amy’s breathing is heavy, and their foreheads’ rest against each other, hands still entwined.

“I missed you so much, Jake,” she whispers breathlessly.

“I know, I missed you too,”

She lets go of his hands, and slides them up around his neck, kissing him again. This time the sadness is gone, replaced with a mutual need and passion, and,  _god, it feels so good_. He takes off his jacket and picks her up enthusiastically. She stops kissing him to laugh, throwing her head back in delight, and wrapping her legs around his waist, during which she takes the opportunity to take off his tie and throw it away. The laughter dissolves into another kiss, and then into a moan as Jake’s lips move away from her mouth and down her neck. He carries her into the bedroom and, drops her gently onto the bed, hastily pulling off his shirt. It lies forgotten on the floor as Amy beckons him, soon to be joined by the rest of their clothes.

* * *

When he wakes up the next morning the first thing he notices are Amy’s arms still wrapped tightly around him, as if she’d been scared he’d run away in the middle of the night. He can feel her breath lightly in between his shoulder blades as well. He loosens her grip on him gently, careful not to wake her, and rolls over, smiling at the sight before him. Amy Santiago, beautiful and asleep, the soft morning light giving her a golden glow. He reaches out and pushes her hair back gently, and the whole sight is enough to make his heart burst. He carefully removes her arms from around him, and sits up, spotting straight away what he’d about to look for — his leather jacket. It’s sitting on the cupboard handle, right where he’d left it eight months ago. Part of him is surprised, part of him is not. Whilst Amy usually put away some things he left out, when he’d gotten back from Florida he’d been shocked to find everything in both his and her apartment exactly how he’d left it —  as if she’d been scared to put away his things, as if that meant he was gone forever — he’d predicted a similar situation for when he got home from jail.

He looks back at Amy, and smiles, before getting out of bed and unzipping his jacket pocket. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling out the box, and looks at the ring — it’s been a whole year since he bought it.

* * *

He bought it on a whim about two months before everything with Hawkins had started. He’d seen it in a shop window, and had stopped dead to stare at it. Marriage and kids had been something they’d started to talk about more seriously since babysitting Cagney and Lacey, rather than just as an obscure concept. And _okay_ , he’d _definitely_ been thinking about it. He’d never really envisioned himself marrying anyone before. All he knew about marriage was that it ended in a lot of paperwork and kids getting hurt, neither were things he particularly liked. But when he thought about being married to Amy? It was none of that. It was happiness and laughter; it was going to the park on a cold day because the kids wanted to; it was Jake panicking that he’d lost his ring and Amy laughing, telling him he’d left on the shampoo shelf in the shower; it was snoozy mornings and growing old together. And okay, you didn’t have to be married to actually do all those things but the idea of calling Amy _his wife_ ? And her calling him _her husband_? And him being able to one day say, “This is my wife, the youngest ever Captain of the NYPD,”? That would be the coolest thing ever.

So he bought the ring, and he’d kept it zipped up in his jacket pocket waiting for inspiration to strike. He’d only truly begun forming solid proposal plans when the whole ‘framed for robbing a bank thing’ happened, and decided to postpone them till after the trial, but he still kept it zipped up in his pocket, partly out of habit, and partly in case they happened across something ridiculously romantic, like a flock of doves.

* * *

He smiles to himself, putting the box back in his pocket, and hanging the jacket up in the cupboard.

He wanders into the bathroom, his deodorant is still sitting out by the sink like he left it there yesterday morning, and his toothbrush is lying next to the toothbrush mug, rather than in it. Smiling, he puts the deoderant back in the cupboard, and the toothbrush in the mug.

Amy stirs in the bed, murmuring inaudibly; she reaches out to the spot where Jake was, and sits bolt upright when she doesn’t feel anything, her eyes snapping open. Irrational panic immediately fills her.

_Where is he? He was here. He was right here. He’s gone. He’s gone again._

“Jake!” she cries out instinctively. “Jake!”

“Ames! Amy, I’m in here!” comes Jake’s voice, and relief floods her at the sound of it, and he hurries into the bedroom. “Hey, I’m here,” he says gently, climbing back onto the bed.

“Sorry... I, uh… I just—” she looks around, frazzled and disorientated, and he can see it in her eyes, something he knows only too well: the fear of being left. And he _hates_ that he put it there.

He shuffles closer, and cups her cheek in his hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah, you— you weren’t here, I woke up and— ” she gulps and shakes her head, like she’s trying to shake a thought from her mind “— I don’t know, I just… panicked.”

He caresses her cheek gently, and she places her own hand on top of his. “Yeah I get that,”

She gulps again, and then it all comes pouring out. She cries and cries and cries, and Jake pulls her into him, rubbing her back, tears in his own eyes. She lets out everything she’s felt in the last eight months, she finally lets him see how much it hurt in a way she didn’t dare during their visits. He knew, of course he knew, but it was a need to be strong for him, and now she longer has to be, and it’s all pouring out.

“There was… there were times I thought that… that we’d never get you out, Jake,” she says between sobs, “that you’d be in there for fifteen years,”

“I know, Ames, I know,” he replies, his voice breaking, “but you did it,” and he smiles as a tear rolls down his cheek; Amy looks at him. “You got me out, I’m here.”  
She smiles and the tears subside. “Yeah,” she breathes, “yeah, you are,”

* * *

That morning they eat waffles with syrup in bed, sunshine pouring in through the window. They watch ‘The Office’, and dance around the kitchen while making lunch in the afternoon. They laugh and they talk and they hug and they kiss, and they’re _together_.

It’s later that afternoon, and they’re stretched across the couch, Amy’s head on chest, their legs all tangled, watching Die Hard.

“God I missed that film,” Jake says as it finishes, and Amy laughs.

He plants a kiss on her forehead. “I think I’m gonna go visit my mom, I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her yesterday.

Amy nods and sits up, turning to face him. “Do you want me to come?”  
“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll be like an hour, tops,”

She smiles and kisses him. “Okay,”

She grabs her book off the coffee table, and watches Jake leave, a small smile on her face, before beginning to read.

* * *

It’s not technically a lie, he thinks as he drives. He _is_ going to see his mom, but he has something else to do after that, something _very_ important. He stops at the traffic lights, and takes the ring out of his pocket, smiling. He swears and almost drops it as the car behind honks him — the light’s gone green.

“Chill!” Jake yells, turning the corner, “I just got outta jail!”

He’s lucky his windows are up.

* * *

Amy’s phone buzzes.

She processes this vaguely, but is too absorbed in her book to do anything about it.

Five minutes go by and it buzzes again, then two more times.

She puts her book down and reaches over. There are four texts from Jake.

Five minutes ago: _come to The Roof_

Ten seconds ago: _!!!_

Now: _ames!_

Now: _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

She frowns, but hurries up to the roof.

“Jake?” she calls out, stepping out onto the roof. It’s seemingly deserted.

She walks around, confused. “Jake?”

She takes out her phone and calls him. “What on earth is going on,” she mutters to herself as the phone rings.

“Ames!” Jake picks up. “Are you almost here?”

“What? Jake? Where are you? I’m on the roof,”

Jake, for good measure, does a quick scan of the roof. “What? No, you’re not,”

“Yes, I am… why do you even want me to come up here?”

“You _can’t_ be here! I only texted you five minutes ago! And it’s not like there’s anyway to hide up here,” he walks quickly around the perimeter as he says this, just to check.

“What? It doesn’t take more than five minutes to walk up the stairs? What are you _—_ ”

That’s when he realises. She’s on their _apartment building_ roof. In hindsight he really should’ve specified.  “Ames! Babe, you’re on the wrong roof, I didn’t mean our apartment roof, I meant _Our Roof_.”

“Our roof? What do—” but then it hits her, and she stops talking mid-sentence.

He didn’t mean their apartment roof, he meant Their Roof, hence the capitals in his text.

And then another thing hits her, for the first time in eight months, Jake’s leather jacket isn’t hanging on their cupboard handle. It's out, out in the world with him.

“Oh!” she says, her heart racing, and a smile working its onto her face. “Oh,” she repeats, she’s smiling so wide that she can’t speak.

“Yeah,” Jake murmurs on the other end of the phone.

“I’ll, um… I’ll be there in, in, in... soon,” she manages to get out.

Jake laughs. “I’ll see you in soon,”

“Yeah,” she breathes, “see you,” she hangs up, and stands frozen for a moment, before she lets out a squeal and does a little skip in the air, racing down downstairs to her car.

* * *

It takes a lot of self control for her to drive at an appropriate speed over to the roof. It almost doesn’t feel real. Just two days ago he’d still been in jail, and now?

She takes a deep breath, and parks the car, looking up at the building. There’s a faint glow emanating from the roof. She squints her eyes.

_Wait, are those… fairy lights?_

* * *

The sun is just beginning to set, and the clouds are painted pink as Amy Santiago steps out onto a roof Jake Peralta decorated just for her.

Fairy lights and police tape are wrapped around the perimeter of roof, ‘AMY’ is spelt out in red rose petals in the middle, and sitting where they sat all those years ago is Jake in a tux with a four buttoned jacket.

She stares around in awe, “Jake,” she whispers, as she walks over to him, “this is perfect… I especially love the jacket,”

He grins. “Four buttons,”

“Four buttons,” she nods, smiling.

Jake laughs nervously, and she watches him, eyes sparkling.

“How long did it take you to do that?” Amy asks, motioning at the rose petals.

“It took me like an hour alone just to pick all the petals off all the roses,”

Amy stares at him, dumbfounded. “You picked all the petals off the roses yourself?”

Jake looks at her, confused. “Yeah, what else would I do?”

“Just buy rose petals,” she prompts.

Jake’s eyes widen. “You can do that?!”

Amy laughs, and it’s Jake’s turn for his eyes to sparkle.

He takes a deep breath and pulls the ring box out of his pocket, as he lowers down onto one knee; Amy’s laughter dissipates at once, and she stares at him with wonder, her breath caught in her throat, her heart caught in a beat.

“Amy Santiago,” he says softly.

“Jake Peralta,” she responds, her heart full.

“I thought a lot about you in jail, well, I’ve always thought about you, since I met you. At first it was just stuff like ‘Why does she have to be _so_ annoying but _so damn_ attractive at the same time?’”

Amy laughs.

“But in jail I made a list on the first day. A list of things we would do when I finally got out.” he holds up three fingers. “Number One: Have mind blowing sex. Check,” he puts one finger down, and Amy laughs again.

“Definitely check,” 

Grinning, he continues. “Number Two: Watch Die Hard.” he puts the second finger down. “Check. Number Three:...” he pauses, almost nervous, “Finally ask you to marry me,”

He bites his lip, and Amy’s heart catches again.

“I love you,” he tells her, and she’s never heard him sound so vulnerable, so genuine before, “I love you, and I know I always will, Ames,” there are tears in both their eyes by this point, and Amy wants to tell him she’ll always love him too, but she’s compelled to let him finish first.

“You’re my favourite person in the world, you have been since our first date here, and I choose here because of that, but I also choose here because _you_ choose here, because it’s where we started, where we properly started.”

Amy nods, her breath is gone, her heart, too, is gone. He’s taken it. It’s sitting in his hands.

“We’ve been separated too many times, you and me, and I just want _to be with you_. That’s all I want.” he takes a deep breath, and opens the box, and the ring is reflected in Amy’s eyes. “Amy Santiago, will you marry me?”

Those words. She’s dreamt about them so much over the past eight months, and here he is, finally asking them. _Finally._

She finds her breath and her voice, and he might be holding her heart, but she is definitely holding his. “Yes.”

He smiles wider than ever before, tears sparkling in his eyes. “Yes?”

“Yes,” she says again, louder, her voice breaking and a tear falling.

He stands up, and slides the ring onto Amy’s finger, his hand trembling.

Jake looks at her, mischief and happiness in his eyes; a split second letter confetti blasts into the air, and ‘Celebration’ begins to play.

Amy laughs, confetti falling into her hair. “How did you do that?” she asks, looking around in awe, as colour falls from the sky.

Jake shows her his phone, grinning. “The magic of bluetooth.”

And beaming, she kisses him with everything, because he is _everything_.


End file.
